Posts tagged ‘memory’
Weekly Photo Challenge – Contrasts
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Way back… when I was in high school, I had the opportunity to be a film project. The student was a fashion design major at the University of Cincinnati, and I was her model for the day. Her assignment was to showcase contrast.
I do believe the photo speaks for itself.
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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/contrasts/
please come…
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please
∼ take my hand ∼
i wish to dance
upon a cloud with you
beneath the glow of a moonlit sky
and
the sound of a nightingale’s tune.
∼
i long to lose myself
within
your gaze
and
loving smile
so
∼ take my hand ∼
our cloud awaits…
please
stay
for
at least
a little
while
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suspended in time
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looking in his eyes
feet never touching the ground
once upon a waltz
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∼
a ps: Way back when I was in college, I took a historical dance class, which was taught by Mr. Richard Powers*, a famous dance historian known for his work in film, stage productions and workshops around the world. Each class, a student had an opportunity to dance with the teacher. My opportunity – my blessing – came the day of the waltz. He stood in front of me, took my hand and the other commandingly held my waist. I was terribly jittery inside; nervous that I would step on his toes, or worse, break a limb. When the music began, I was literally swept off my feet. All I can say is that I have never, ever had a moment where I completely lost track of time and place. All I saw were his eyes and, I can honestly say, I never felt my feet touch the ground.
There has never been a moment like this since.
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Powers_%28dance_historian%29
Bill
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his
deep voice
a sweet sound –
could make me laugh
could make me angry
could make me cry big tears
could say what i could not – say
could lift me up and drop me hard
could make me feel as if i mattered
he was my best friend and i still miss him.
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flickers for mom
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a glow in the room
she lights them for her mother
eight flickering flames
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The Hanukkah menorah belonged to my mother’s father.
The mats below were made by Jordan in 1997 and Peyton in 2000.
My mom passed away December 10, 2004.
darkness of winter
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the darkness of winter brings a sadness inside –
an awareness so many are gone.
like the colors of autumn fading away,
cherished memories seem to wither along.
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this time of year used to mean so very much –
days full of holiday cheer
but
now i barely see a crumb of what was –
i see only sadness mixed with tinges of fear.
*
i wish i could ignore
the merriment which surrounds me,
but
the media will not stop pounding it into my head.
if
i could only lock the doors to the world and disappear,
i could exist without this feeling of dread.
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these nights
˜
nights like these tear open scars –
leave a burning, seething pain
and
drown my thoughts in memories
of a person
i wish
would fade away.
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each time i close my eyes to sleep
he is standing over me –
with a blade so sharp
it cuts to the bone;
i can do nothing to resist
but
bleed.
˜
i DO keep waiting for the night to come
when he no longer shows his face –
when he can no longer stab me
through the heart
and
hold my soul at bay.
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however
˜
until the time arrives
in which
he is nowhere to be seen,
i will prepare for battle
every night
in hopes
that i can
sleep.
˜
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the words i write
˜
words on a page
come to life in my mind
formulated by experiences –
little fragments in time
˜
but
˜
it’s the feelings and emotions
sustained by the heart
which bring the ‘essence’ –
their soul to life.
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here
whether i am working, running, cooking or cleaning.
you are here.
with me.
−
i can be driving – anywhere
cooking – anything
listening to any song.
you are here.
with me.
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i can be shopping at a store,
eating a bite of food
or walking the dog.
you are here.
with me.
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i can be looking up at the stars,
dreaming in my sleep
or doing nothing.
you are here.
with me.
−
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how dare you invade
my every thought,
my every breath.
who gave you permission?
who said that you could?
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remember this fact –
you left me,
you quit us.
so
go back to your life,
your world,
your dream –
go use someone else
and
stay far away
from
me.
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